


Dreams of Joy Departed

by Golden_Asp, Miura_Sky



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, AU, After his village is destroyed he is taken in by Ardyn, Collaboration, Dark!Ignis, Eventual Sex, Ignis never goes to Insomnia, Imperial!Ignis (kind of but not really?, M/M, Mentor/Protégé to lovers, Multichapter, Slow Burn, all aboard the Ardnis train!, and we're not sorry, ardnis, did I say angst? Because there's gonna be a lot of it, spans the entire events of the game and some time before, warnings will change as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miura_Sky/pseuds/Miura_Sky
Summary: Ignis' parents sent him running into the forest to escape the destruction that the empire brought upon their village.  Ignis never went to Insomnia, was never taken in by his uncle, and never became Prince Noctis' chamberlain.About to be killed in the forest, he is saved by none other than Ardyn Izunia.  Ardyn takes him back to Niflheim, and Ignis learns at the feet of the first chosen king.Separate, they are incomplete.Together, they'll change the world.**fic and art collaboration with the wonderful Miura Sky (link in notes)**





	1. The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story is a collaborative effort between myself and Miura Sky ( [Tumblr](http://miura-art.tumblr.com/post/171034470416/dreams-of-joy-departed-chapter-1-youve-become) I [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MiuraSky)
> 
> This is definitely a labor of love for both of us. I'm writing the story out, we both worked on the outline, and Miura Sky has graced each chapter with lovely art. Bonus art will be available on her tumblr (like character designs and other fun stuff.)
> 
> We would love to know your thoughts on this! 
> 
> *title inspired by Edgar Allan Poe poem "A Dream"

“Ignis, you must run! Into the forest, do you understand me?”

Ignis nodded, green eyes huge and face streaked with tears. He flinched at the explosion coming from their village. 

His father was already dead.

His mother looked down at him, smiling sadly and trying to be strong for her little boy. She knew she was sending her son to his death.

What was worse; dying at the hands of the Niflheim Empire, or at the claws of the daemons that ranged in the woods? Perhaps it was selfish of her to send him away. He was only five years old, and he surely he didn’t understand what was going on.

She couldn’t bear to see him murdered before him, and she didn’t want him to watch her die.

“Run, and don’t look back. Don’t stop, no matter what you hear. Do you understand?”

Ignis nodded. “Mama…” he cried.

“Shh, you must be brave. I love you, now run, hurry! They’re coming!”

They could hear the sound of the Magitek troopers stomping across the streets of the village. Screams lifted into the night, twisting around the smoke that billowed from burning buildings.

“Run!” Mama screamed, turning to face the incoming troopers. She blocked their view of her little boy.

Ignis turned and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. The forest was a dark place, a place that people told frightening stories of to keep little boys like him from wandering too far from home.

He screamed when he heard the sharp reports of gunfire behind him. He covered his ears as he ran, trying to drown out the muffled thump of a body hitting the ground.

Ignis reached the edge of the forest and didn’t pause. He plunged into the dark foliage, trees reaching out like claws to snag at his clothes, his hair. He felt one tear into his skin, warm blood trickling down his cheek.

He had never been here alone before. He had come with his father, listening intently as his father’s deep voice told stories of kings and oracles and gods.

But they had never come after dark. Nighttime was the daemon’s time. It had grown worse over the past couple of years. 

Listening in the dark, Ignis had heard the adults tell of a time where one could go into the forest at night without fear. They spoke of a time before the kings of Lucis had raised the wall around Insomnia, cutting off the rest of Lucis from the safety of Insomnia.

Once, it was said, one could walk through the land at night without having to worry about daemons. Once, the empire hadn’t had their Magitek troopers.

It hadn’t been like that for Ignis’ short life. From the time he was old enough to walk he had been told to never go outside at night, and never go alone.

He bit back a sob, stumbling on a root and hitting his knees hard. He wished he wasn’t wearing his short pants, but there was nothing for it now. He pushed himself to his feet, his palms scrapped and bloody from hitting the ground. 

He ran with a slight limp, each step tearing a cry from his throat. His breath rasped in his throat. Each inhale felt like spikes being driven through his chest, each exhale like something was tearing his lungs from his body.

His cries couldn’t block out the screams coming from his village, the steady beat of the Magitek troopers’ footsteps, the laughter of the men leading the destruction.

The very men his father had hosted in their house the night before. Ignis had hid upstairs, watching as Mama and Papa made dinner for the men in the funny uniforms, their house surrounded by Magitek troopers.

Ignis had heard them. They were there at the behest of the Emperor to check on the people of the small town. Everything was fine and then…

Ignis sobbed, crashing into a tree and falling to his butt. He wiped his face, smearing blood and tears. He shook with exhaustion, muscles screaming with fatigue, mind screaming with fear.

Papa had been shot in their house, and Mama had grabbed him and run.

Ignis trembled and pulled himself up. He kept moving forward, making no attempt to stop his tears. He walked now, unable to run. He hurt everywhere, and he didn’t know how far he had gone.

“Mama,” he whispered, sniffing. He leaned against a tree, taking gulping breaths. 

He could see smoke billowing into the sky against the full moon. He could smell it, the acrid scent burning his nose, making his eyes sting.

He slid down the tree and wrapped his arms around his knees. He sobbed brokenly, terrified and alone.

He tried to get himself under control. Papa was brave, and he could be brave too.

It took him a moment to realize that the forest was silent. He couldn’t hear the night bugs, or the owls that made the trees their homes.

He whimpered, watching in horror as the ground before him bubbled and boiled, darkness rising from the forest floor.

A large hand appeared in the middle of the pool of darkness. Something was pulling itself from the mass of darkness.

Ignis couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe.

A daemon had come for him.

He scrambled to his feet and watched, biting his lip until it bled.

He looked up and up and up at the Iron Giant before him. He screamed when it swung its massive blade and took the top of the tree off.

He turned and ran, all hurts forgotten. He heard the daemon roar and the ground shook as it gave chase.

He ran, and he hoped that someone would save him.

Even though he knew it was far too late.

FFXV

Ardyn Izunia strolled through the remains of the village, stepping over charred bodies and walking through the burnt out shells of buildings. The scent of burnt flesh was thankfully over powered by the burning buildings.

“No one is left, sir,” one of the imperial commanders said. Ardyn knew the man had given him his name, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care.

They were all the same, mortals. Short lived, no imagination, stinky, self-satisfied viruses upon Eos.

Ardyn had had a long time to resent humanity. He honestly didn’t care who won the foolish war that he had so long ago orchestrated. 

He honestly couldn’t remember why he had even started the war. Boredom had probably been a large factor. It had been a very long time ago.

He hummed quietly to himself, striding around the commander without a word. The commander muttered something under his breath, and Ardyn made the mental note to kill him later.

He couldn’t have dissenters in his army, now could he?

He hadn’t been here for the destruction of the charming little village. Hopefully this would send a message to dear king Regis that the empire was not finished with their conquest.

Ardyn didn’t care about the empire. He honestly didn’t care about Lucis. It was the _kings_ of Lucis that he hated with every bit of his corrupted soul.

It was the kings that he would destroy, and the new chosen king he waited for.

He had waited a very long time.

He was getting tired of waiting.

Ardyn stopped before a still smoking house. A piece of paper rested in front of his boot. He leaned over and picked it up, the edges crumbling beneath his fingers. He turned it over.

It was a child’s drawing of the house before him, ‘Welcome to our home’ written in childish block letters across the top.

Ardyn crumpled it in his hands and tossed it into the fire.

The drawing made him irrationally angry. He had no home.

He hadn’t had a home in a very, very long time.

He looked to the forest behind the house and he felt it; the surge of power that meant a daemon was rising. He tilted his head and took off for the forest.

Perhaps some villagers had escaped the destruction by running into the forest. He would hunt them down, and he would watch as they begged for their lives.

Perhaps he would leave some of them alive, knowing the scourge would start to change them, until they too scurried across the forest as a goblin or some other lowly daemon.

Ardyn moved easily through the trees, a spring in his step. It had been a while since he had enjoyed something. It would be a fleeting moment of joy, he knew.

Joy was not meant for a man like him.

He moved through the forest like a shadow, silent, intent, hunting. A predator closing in on his prey.

He heard a scream shatter the unnatural silence of the forest and he trotted forward.

He saw the Iron Giant, watched as it felled tree after tree in pursuit of its prey. He followed. Ardyn couldn’t see a group of people, so perhaps it was only one foolish person who had run into the woods seeking safety. 

Idiot. There was no safety in the world.

He leaned against the tree. He still couldn’t see who the Iron Giant was bearing down on, but he could wait.

He had nothing but time, after all.

The Iron Giant suddenly stopped, seeming confused. Ardyn frowned, rolling his eyes.

Daemons really had no brains. They were mindless killing machines. Exceptionally easy to control, not very good conversationalists. 

He heard an enraged, high pitched scream, and stepped sideways, finally getting a good look at just who the Iron Giant was chasing.

It was a boy, maybe five or six years old, and he stared down the Iron Giant and screamed his defiance at the daemon.

Ardyn felt a stirring of interest. Intriguing. 

FFXV

Ignis ran as fast as he could, stumbling and falling only to get back up and keep running. He ran until he came upon the river, raging with spring runoff.

There was no way he could cross it. He would be swept away. He took a step forward, toes right on the edge of the bank.

He could swim. It was one of the first things children were taught living on the coast, but he knew he couldn’t swim in that swollen river.

He turned to face the daemon and screamed. Terror faded as rage took its place. He was alone, facing a daemon, and he was so tired and he hurt so much.

Ignis screamed his pain and anger at the daemon, screamed until his throat was raw.

He saw the Iron Giant lift its sword and start swinging it down towards him. He couldn’t help but to close his eyes. It would be over before he knew it.

Nothing happened.

He heard footsteps and froze. They sounded like normal human footsteps, not the monstrous ones of the daemon.

He cracked his eyes open and stared.

A man stood before him, watching him. His eyes were golden, and glowed with an inner light. He had black tears rolling down his cheeks, and the very darkness that daemons were made of seemed to leech from his very body. He wore a hat and an outrageous jacket and more layers than he needed in the summer.

There was no sign of the daemon.

Ignis wiped his eyes. The man leaked darkness. Had he eaten the daemon? Ignis whimpered quietly, eyes darting behind the man. Nothing.

Ignis turned his attention back to the man. The man seemed to be waiting for something. Ignis took a step forward, sniffing slightly. The man watched him.

Ignis reached out a tentative hand. He could see the man well enough in the moonlight. Even the man’s hands radiated darkness.

Maybe he had consumed the daemon. 

Ignis didn’t know. He just knew that the man with the golden eyes had saved him.

Ignis’ small fingers brushed the man’s, and the man’s hand twitched.

“You’ve become sick because of me,” Ignis whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The man stared at him as if he were an intensely interesting television program. Ignis wrapped his fingers around the man’s hand.

He didn’t know where the man came from or who he was, but he knew the man would keep him safe.

He just knew it.

FFXV

With a twist of his hand, Ardyn sent the daemon back to the scourge infested ether it had come from. He could feel the Starscourge leaking from him. It always did when he worked with daemons.

The boy stared at him, impossibly green eyes huge in his face. His face was covered with blood and dirt and tears and snot. His knees were scraped and bloody. Clearly the forest had not been gentle with the boy.

Ardyn’s eyes widened when the boy touched his hand. “You’ve become sick because of me,” the boy whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. “I’m sorry.”

That little hand tightened around his finger. Why was this child not afraid of him? And he thought that he was sick because of him? 

The boy looked up at him, eyes trusting. It would be so easy for Ardyn to strike him down, kill the brat before he even knew what had happened, but he stayed his hand.

A boy who screamed in defiance of an Iron Giant and who didn’t fear Ardyn Izunia was something new. In two thousand years, Ardyn had seen just about everything, and when something new did come along, he wanted to study it.

“What is your name, boy?” Ardyn asked.

The boy’s hand tightened around Ardyn’s finger.

“Ignis,” the boy whispered.

Ardyn looked down at him and swept his hat off his head. “Ardyn Izunia at your service, Ignis.”

Ignis sniffed and giggled. His fingers tightened around Ardyn’s hand.

Ardyn put his hat back on his head and looked to the sky. The boy intrigued him, and not much piqued his interest after so many years.

He would watch the boy, see how he reacted to other stimuli. He could get rid of this Ignis easily enough.

Later.

His thumb brushed the boy’s—Ignis’—hand. How long had it been since someone thought he was safe? How long had it been since someone had touched him willingly.

“Come,” Ardyn said briskly. “You are a mess and we need to get you cleaned up.”

Ignis nodded. Everything hurt, and he couldn’t bite back the cry of pain when Ardyn stepped forward, leading Ignis away from the river.

Ardyn stopped, looking down at him. He noticed Ignis’ injuries, the fresh blood welling down his cheek, knees bruised and bloody, shirt torn.

With a sigh, Ardyn pulled out a potion from midair. Ignis’ eyes widened in amazement. He watched silently as Ardyn wrapped Ignis’ small hand around the bottle, and wrapped his own hand around Ignis’. Ardyn crushed the vial in Ignis’ hand.

Ignis cried out, staring in awe as green light briefly surrounded him. He realized suddenly that he didn’t hurt and he stared at Ardyn with wide eyes.

“Thank you,” Ignis whispered. His mother had always said to be polite.

Ardyn said nothing. He stood up, Ignis still holding tightly to his hand. They set off at a slow walk.

“Where are we going?” Ignis asked.

“I’m taking you to your parents.”

Ignis was silent for a moment. “They’re dead.” He didn’t quite understand what being dead meant, he just knew it meant not waking up again.

Ardyn looked down at Ignis. He had known, of course, that the boy’s parents were dead. He had wanted to see what Ignis would say.

“Then I guess you’ll have to come with me,” Ardyn said. Ignis’ fingers tightened around his.

“Where are we going?”

“Niflheim,” Ardyn said, watching him with interest. The empire had just murdered his parents and destroyed his village. Would the boy be foolish enough to try to run?

Ardyn halfway hoped so. 

Ignis looked down. This man, this Ardyn, had eaten the daemon that was going to kill him. He was alive because of him.

He would follow Ardyn anywhere, even Niflheim, if he asked.

Ardyn had saved him.

Ignis nodded, and Ardyn arched his eyebrow.

This boy was just full of surprises.

Ardyn turned again, gently tugging Ignis after him.

They walked through the forest, Ignis’ fingers tight on Ardyn’s hand.

The sun began to rise in the east, and when Ignis looked up at Ardyn, he felt completely safe. 


	2. To Niflheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Ardyn realizes maybe he doesn't really have a clue about children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter. Against this is a collaboration between myself and Miura Sky. She has also translated this fic. We sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter, and the art that goes with it.

Ignis fell asleep not long after the airship lifted away from the remains of his village. He was curled on the jump seat next to Ardyn, head pressed against Ardyn’s hip. Ardyn stared down at him, confused and intrigued.

The boy hadn’t protested when Ardyn had led him to the airship. Ardyn had noted that Ignis had glanced at the house that he had found that drawing in front of, lip quivering as they walked by.

Ardyn didn’t say anything about the tears. Ignis had just followed him onto the airship, leaving behind his entire life without a word.

Ardyn brushed his hand over Ignis’ hair.

The imperial commander sat across from them. Ardyn still couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he was getting rather tired of those mortal eyes boring into him.

“Problem, commander?” Ardyn asked, fingers catching on a clump of dried blood in Ignis’ hair.

“We can throw the brat out over the ocean. Why you felt the need to bring him along is beyond comprehension, Chancellor.”

“Beyond your comprehension, perhaps,” Ardyn said lightly. Why did he feel the need to defend the boy?

“He is worthless. He won’t be any use to the Magitek program, or Verstael’s research. Let me kill him now and we’re all saved the headache of a damn child.”

“Touch the boy and I’ll feed you to Verstael’s pets,” Ardyn said, hazel eyes bleeding gold momentarily. The commander hunched down in his seat.

“Didn’t realize you were into little boys,” the commander muttered.

One second Ardyn was sitting in his jump seat, Ignis curled against him, the next, Ardyn was across the ship in a burst of red light, hand around the commander’s throat.

“I have done many heinous things in my many years, but never that.”

The commander struggled, his feet not touching the ground. Ardyn looked at him, letting his true nature bleed out.

“What are you?” the commander choked, hands clawing at Ardyn’s wrist.

“Simply a man of no consequence,” Ardyn said, dragging the commander to the rear of the airship. He slammed his fist into the button to open the back hatch.

“What are you doing?” the commander yelled. He struggled fruitlessly against Ardyn’s grip.

“Stop him!” he yelled at the Magitek troopers. 

“Oh dear, they won’t listen to you. They may be created for the empire, but I can command them to do whatever I wish. They are of the scourge, so they are mine.”

Ardyn looked out over the land speeding by below them.

“Let me go!” the commander yelled. 

“As you wish,” Ardyn said, tossing the commander out the hatch. “Watch that first step,” he muttered, listening as the wind tore the screams from the commander’s throat. 

“Maybe I should’ve gotten his name before he died. Pity,” Ardyn said. He shut the hatch, turning back to the boy. 

Ignis watched him through wide green eyes. Ardyn tilted his head. Would Ignis freak out now, scream in terror?

He sat up as Ardyn sat back down next to him, giving the boy some space. Ignis sighed and curled back against him. Ardyn stared down at him, eyes wide.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Ardyn whispered.

“You saved me,” Ignis said, closing his eyes.

Ardyn rested his head against the bulkhead, staring blankly at the opposite wall. 

He still didn’t know why he had saved the boy.

FFXV

Ignis was still asleep when they landed, so Ardyn pulled the boy into his arms and carried him out of the airship. He walked through the halls of Zegnautus Keep, Ignis’ head on his shoulder, arms loose around his neck.

Ardyn couldn’t remember the last time someone let him touch them like this. It felt strange.

He reached his suite of rooms, punching in his entry code one handed. Luckily the boy hardly weighed anything. Ardyn stepped in, the door sliding shut behind. He set Ignis on the bed, taking his jacket off and tossing it over the chair.

He fingered his red scarf. It was thin and getting rather worn. He had had it as long as he could remember. He carefully unwound it from around his neck and folded it. He moved back to the bed, looking down at the sleeping boy.

He would probably be hungry. And he would need different clothes. What did children wear? What did they eat for that matter?

Ardyn didn’t have much experience with children. At all. When he had been beloved of the people, he had interacted with some, but that had been a very, very, long time ago.

The years bled together.

He walked over to the small kitchen, looking through his limited supplies. Egg sandwich it was.

Eggs didn’t go bad, did they? He shrugged, cracking it and dumping it in the pan. Looked fine.

It would be unfortunate to kill the boy with his cooking, but egg sandwiches weren’t difficult. The bread was only a little stale. There was no mold on it at least.

Ardyn glanced up when he heard movement from the bed. Ignis sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Smells good,” the boy said.

“Well, I can’t promise it will taste decent,” Ardyn said, sliding the egg onto bread. Ignis shrugged, crawling onto the chair. Ardyn set the plate down in front of him. “I’m afraid water is all I have to drink at the moment.”

“Thank you,” Ignis said politely, taking a big bite of the sandwich. His nose curled a little. The egg was pretty burnt and the bread was a bit hard, but he was too hungry to care. It felt like it had been forever since he had eaten.

He devoured the sandwich, reaching for the water bottle when he was done. He struggled with the lid, biting his lip. Ardyn took it from him, unscrewing the lid and handing the bottle back. 

Ignis thanked him again, carefully holding the bottle in both hands and tipping it back and drinking carefully.

Ardyn watched him. Hopefully the kid didn’t get sick from the sandwich. Ardyn knew the imperial slaves would be by to restock later.

He had no idea what to dress the boy in though. His short pants were torn and his shirt was bloody. Ardyn had absolutely nothing that would fit a child. He guessed he could cut holes in a pillow case and belt it around the kid.

“Stay here. I’m going to go find you something to wear,” Ardyn said.

Ignis looked at him, green eyes huge. “You’re leaving?” 

Ardyn blinked. The boy sounded panicked. 

“Only going down the hall. You’ll be safe in this room. No one but me can get in here.” He didn’t know why he was comforting the child. The boy meant nothing to him. He didn’t want Ignis’ dirt and blood covered clothes stinking up the place. That was it.

Ignis sniffed, then nodded. He was afraid to be alone, but he didn’t want to push Ardyn away.

Ardyn briefly touched Ignis’ head and walked out. He grabbed one of the passing slaves, ordering them to bring fresh food to his rooms. The woman bowed and scrambled to do as he bid. Disobeying the strange and enigmatic Ardyn Izunia was never a good idea.

Ardyn wandered down the hall, wondering where to even start. There weren’t exactly a plethora of children in Gralea, let alone Zegnautus Keep.

He finally wandered to the emperor’s personal seamstress. “I need clothing for a boy, young. You will help.”

She bowed. “I may have something that will work until I can custom make clothing for him.”

She walked to a dark corner of the room, dragging a trunk out of the shadows. “A number of years ago the blessed emperor had a son. These were his.”

Ardyn arched his eyebrow. Fascinating. He knew, of course, that Aldercapt’s son had been killed before reaching his tenth year.

The boy’s mother had killed her son and then herself to get away from the maddening emperor. Such delightful drama.

“These will be perfect.”

The seamstress bowed as Ardyn lifted the trunk and carried it back down the hall to his room. The slave he had sent for food was waiting for him outside the door. Ardyn opened it, walking through first.

Ignis looked up as the door slid open, eyes widening when he saw the second person behind Ardyn. He dove under the bed, hiding himself from view. Ardyn nodded. Smart boy.

The slave quickly cleaned out the refrigerator, not looking up as Ardyn dropped the trunk at the end of his bed.

“You may leave,” Ardyn said. The slave bowed, scurrying from the room.

“You can come out now,” Ardyn said. Ignis looked at him, slowly crawling out from beneath the bed.

Ardyn opened the trunk. Ignis stepped closer, looking in it.

“Some of these should fit you,” Ardyn said, pulling out a very nice blue shirt. He pushed it into Ignis’ hands, digging through for pants or something.

Ignis ran his fingers over the shirt. It was so soft and fine!

“Come. The bathroom is through here. You need to clean up.”

Ignis shuffled after Ardyn, clutching the clothes loosely in his hand.

Ardyn and Ignis stared at each other. Ardyn rubbed at the back of his neck. Did he have to do something? Surely the boy could clean himself? Children were capable, weren’t they?

Maybe he should read up on the training of children. Were children trained?

Ignis sat on the floor, carefully unlacing his sturdy boots. He struggled a bit pulling them off, and Ardyn sighed and crouched in front of him, tugging the boots off.

“This may come as a surprise, but I have no idea what to do with children,” Ardyn said.

Ignis giggled slightly. It was pretty obvious.

He stood up and Ardyn sighed. Apparently he was going to help the kid. He turned on the shower, letting it warm up. 

Ignis slowly peeled his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He kicked his shorts off, and Ardyn grabbed him under the armpits and lifted him over the edge of the tub.

“I’m going to sit on the toilet. Here’s soap, get clean,” Ardyn said.

Ignis nodded, looking like a drowned rat as the water coursed over him. Ardyn sat on the toilet, stretching out. He took his own boots off. He’d take a shower once the boy was done.

A few minutes later, the water turned off. Ardyn stood up, grabbing one of the towels and helping Ignis to dry himself. He lifted Ignis over the edge of the tub again, setting him on the bathmat. 

“Here,” Ardyn said, handing him a slightly too large shirt. It would work as a night shirt. Ignis pulled it on and Ardyn bit back a laugh. The boy was swimming in the shirt.

Ardyn led Ignis from the bathroom, sitting the boy on the couch. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket for him.

“Rest,” Ardyn said.

“You…you’ll be here when I wake up?” Ignis asked quietly.

Ardyn tilted his head. “Yes. I don’t care to socialize yet.”

Ignis nodded, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. He watched as Ardyn walked back to the bathroom, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound.

FFXV 

A few days passed, and Ignis spent the time either eating or sleeping. Ardyn found that the boy didn’t like it when he left. Ignis seemed to genuinely like Ardyn, and to be entirely frank, it confused Ardyn immensely. 

No one liked him. No one.

Ardyn watched Ignis. The boy sat at the table, coloring. Ardyn had managed to find some paper and markers and turned the kid loose. Kids liked coloring, right? Well, it seemed Ignis did.

“Here,” Ignis said after a bit, pushing the paper to Ardyn. Ardyn turned it and looked at it. There was a…somewhat man shaped blob with a hat and big black jacket, standing in front of a boy shaped blob, eating a daemon. Well, Ardyn assumed it was a daemon. It was a blob with horns and a big sword, anyway.

“Is this me?” Ardyn asked. He wasn’t sure if he should be amused or horrified.

Ignis nodded. “It’s when you ate the daemon and saved me.”

Ardyn glanced at Ignis. The boy looked nervous. Ardyn ran his fingers over the drawing.

His lips twitched in a genuine smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled for real. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a gift.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”

And the strange thing was, Ardyn actually would.

  
  


FFXV

Ignis cried quietly at night. He didn’t want to disturb Ardyn. He did miss his parent. He missed how Mama would tuck him in at night, how Papa would sing in his deep voice.

He missed his stuffed Spiracorn. 

He always tried to be quiet. He liked Ardyn, but he didn’t think the man would want him crying all the time.

Ignis didn’t realize that Ardyn didn’t really need to sleep. He didn’t know that Ardyn lay there in the dark and listen to the boy’s near silent crying.

Finally, Ardyn stood up, going to the couch and kneeling next to it.

“You miss your parents.”

Ignis rocketed up, not realizing Ardyn had moved. He wiped his eyes quickly. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked.

Ardyn held his hand up. “It’s fine. You miss them.”

Ignis nodded, sniffing.

Ardyn looked at him in the dark, eyes reflecting the dim light. Ardyn didn’t know what to do. Ignis had been withdrawing a bit the past couple of days. Ardyn was surprised to find that he was actually worried about the boy.

Ignis Scientia brought on so many emotions that Ardyn hadn’t felt in eons. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it to change.

Ardyn sighed. “Come here.”

Ignis looked at Ardyn like the man was speaking a different language. He inched closer, squealing when Ardyn scooped him into his arms. Ardyn carried the boy back to his bed, setting him in it and tucking him in.

Ignis looked up at him, face still tear streaked. 

“And friends? Do you miss them?”

Ignis shrugged. “Mama and Papa were my only friends. The other kids didn’t like me because I liked to read. They made fun of me.”

“Because you like to read?”

Ignis nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

“Mortals are stupid,” Ardyn muttered. 

Ignis snorted in laughter. “You talk funny sometimes.”

“I really do. I know. I find it keeps people on their toes around me.”

Ardyn looked at the boy. “I’ll take you to the library tomorrow, and you can pick out whatever books you want.”

Ignis smiled tentatively. “Really?”

“I never lie, my dear boy.”

Ignis’ smile widened, some of the shadows chased away from his eyes.

“Sleep,” Ardyn said. 

Ignis closed his eyes, feeling safe under Ardyn’s watchful gaze.

FFXV

Ignis clung to Ardyn’s hand as the man led him down the cold metal halls the next day. They didn’t run into anyone, although two of the metal men followed them.

“They won’t harm you,” Ardyn said as Ignis pressed against his side, burying his head against Ardyn’s hip. “They are under my control.”

“They…they aren’t real?”

“They’re not people as you understand it,” Ardyn said. “Think of them as perfectly obedient robots. Walking cell phones, if you will.”

Ignis glanced back at the two Magitek troopers. “What are they called?”

“Magitek,” Ardyn said, swiping his card for entry into the library. He gestured at the troopers and they took position on either side of the door.

Ignis looked around and gaped. There were more books than he had ever seen in his entire life lining the walls. He hadn’t even known there were so many books in the whole world.

He let go of Ardyn’s hand, looking around.

“Go. I know there’s children’s books around. Somewhere,” Ardyn muttered, scratching his chin. Ignis started walking around the room, hands clasped behind his back. Ardyn sat in one of the plush chairs, running his fingers over the worn velvet of the arms of the chair.

Hardly anyone came to the library anymore. The dear, delusional, emperor hadn’t come here since the death of his family, and it wasn’t like Magitek troopers cared to read. They didn’t have minds of their own.

Sometimes refreshing, but they weren’t very good company.

“Ardyn?” Ignis asked quietly. Ardyn looked up. The boy stood in front of him, a book in his hands. Ardyn’s eyes widened at the cover.

It was a book of old Lucian fairy tales, written in the long dead language of his birth. He hadn’t even been aware that the empire had any books in that language.

Ignis couldn’t really read, not yet. He knew _some_ words, but the ones in the book in his hands were beyond him. The drawings were beautiful and colorful.

“Where was that?” Ardyn asked quietly.

“In the corner, hidden behind a big book about cooking.”

Ardyn took the book from him carefully, aware of Ignis watching him.

“Is it a different language?”

Ardyn nodded. “A dead language. No one speaks it anymore.”

“Oh,” Ignis said quietly, disappointed. The pictures were so pretty. He wanted to know the stories that went with them.

Ardyn looked at him, running his fingers over the gilded title. He looked at the little boy, so disappointed about a dead language.

“It just so happens I know this language. Would you like to hear one of the stories?”

Ardyn wasn’t sure what made him offer to read Ignis a story. Long buried memories of his own parents reading to him? The desire to read the language of his birth?

He didn’t know. He decided not to question it.

He pulled Ignis into his lap, settling the book across the boy’s lap. He put one arm around Ignis and opened the book. He skipped the stories of the gods. He wanted nothing to do with the gods.

He skipped to a later story. Ignis stared at the pages with wide, wondering, eyes.

“Once, in a faraway land, lived a handsome prince…” Ardyn started quietly. Ignis was a solid and warm weight on his lap. Ignis was quiet, listening intently as Ardyn read.

He tilted his head, half watching the boy as he read.

Ardyn smiled, turning back to the book.

He finished the story. “Another?”

Ignis looked at him. “Can you read the same one…in that language?” he asked, pointing at the foreign words on the page.

Ardyn looked at him, then nodded. He turned back to the beginning of the story and started again, words of a long dead language floating around the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are love!
> 
> MiruaSky[Tumblr](http://miura-art.tumblr.com/post/172019082791/dreams-of-joy-departed-chapter-2-once-in-a) I [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MiuraSky)
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	3. Birthdays and time skips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time begins to pass, Ardyn learns more about Ignis and vice versa. The Crystal makes a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I swear it's not abandoned. This is the first of a couple of time skip chapters to age Ignis up. I was originally going to take this to the fall of Tenebrae, but it worked out better to stop where I did. This is WIP six of six in my rotation of working on them, so should update every six weeks or so. 
> 
> one scene where someone (not Ardyn) slaps Ignis.
> 
> due to real life taking precedent over fanfic, not every chapter will include art. Please understand.
> 
> not beta-ed

Ardyn looked around his room, more than a little confused. In the months since he had rescued Ignis, his living quarters had slowly transformed into something…else. Ignis wasn’t a messy boy; in fact, he was quite good about picking up after himself, but Ardyn’s fridge was covered in (admittedly terrible) drawings, children’s books and coloring books sat on the table, and he always had food in his fridge.

Ardyn scratched his head and looked at the boy sleeping on the couch. He really needed to get the kid a bed, and particularly a bedroom. He scrawled a quick note to himself to requisition the quarters next to his. They didn’t belong to anyone important.

He dropped a blanket over the boy and headed to his bed, face planting into it. Rarely had he met someone as utterly exhausting as Aldercapt, but he wanted to squeeze the life out of the man. If he didn’t need him to twist the knife into Lucis more, he’d just finish his transformation into a daemon and be done with it. Verstael would certainly enjoy another toy to play with, especially after that clone had gone missing nearly three years ago.

Ardyn rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He stuck his arms behind his head and sighed. He’d heard of the birth of the prince of Lucis around the same time that Verstael’s pet project was taken. _Noctis_ , he heard the brat was called.

He sat up, pulling open the drawer in his bedside table. He yanked out a few newspaper clippings, staring at the announcements, the picture of the baby boy in the king’s arms, the headline only days later of the death of the queen. Complications related to childbirth, it said.

Ardyn highly doubted they would ever print the truth. It hadn’t been difficult to send the seed of the Starscourge to the queen; her love of pastries was well known and Ardyn had millennia to know exactly how to manipulate it.

He touched the photo of the baby boy’s face.

Was he the one? Would he be the Chosen One?

Ardyn looked up as Ignis shifted on the couch, hastily shoving the clippings back into the drawer. Ignis simply rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

Ardyn relaxed again, resting against his headboard.

He hoped the boy was the Chosen One, the traitorous Crystal’s precious chosen king.

How long would the gods make him wait?

Hadn’t he waited long enough?

FFXV

Ignis stared warily at the servant talking to Ardyn. The people in the compound they lived in had quickly grown used to the boy’s presence. He was almost always with Ardyn, trailing behind the chancellor silently, those green eyes taking in everything.

“Young lord,” the servant said, directing her attention to Ignis.

Ignis frowned, glancing up at Ardyn.

“Yes, she’s talking to you,” Ardyn said out of the corner of his mouth. 

Ignis stared at him. He was a _lord_?

“Young lord, it’s time to cut your hair. You are seen in the company of the Chancellor, and must be presented to the emperor soon. You look like a ragamuffin.”

Ignis frowned, quite offended. So his hair was a little long, who cared? And he didn’t want to be presented to the emperor.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Ignis asked, clutching the loose fabric of Ardyn’s pants in his hand.

“It’s a tad long,” Ardyn said, rolling his eyes at the servant. Really, sometimes he didn’t know why he didn’t just feed Ignis to a Naga or something. Children could be so bloody annoying.

Ignis looked up at Ardyn, taking in his own longer hair. “So is yours,” Ignis said bluntly.

Ardyn actually laughed, making the servant’s eyes bug out in shock. Ardyn Izunia never laughed.

“But I am a very eccentric old man and I do what I want. Get your hair cut, boy.”

Ignis slowly stepped forward. His mama had always cut his hair, and he swallowed back the tears that welled at the thought of his mother. He missed her, and Papa. He sometimes dreamed that they would come back, but he knew better. They were dead, and he was smart enough to find books on what being ‘dead’ meant. 

They would never come back.

The servant let out a huff and grabbed his wrist, dragging him closer to her. He saw the flash of scissors and let out a quiet wail as she lowered them to his face. He struggled, half crying Ardyn’s name.

The servant smacked him across the face. “Silence, boy!”

Ignis went utterly still, tears falling from his eyes. His cheek stung, his vision blurred through his tears. The servant raised her hand again, angry that this foolish boy was defying her. She had important work to do and this boy, this _pet_ that the Chancellor had found would not get in the way.

Ardyn grabbed her wrist, squeezing until the bones cracked. She cried out, struggling fruitlessly in his grip. She tried to stab him with the scissors in her hand, but he knocked the scissors out of her hand with ease.

“You will never touch him again,” Ardyn snarled, throwing her back. “He is a child, and you are nothing. Remember that. You are less than the shit stuck to a Spiracorn’s hoof. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you. Now get out.”

He dropped her wrist, letting the scourge bleed into his eyes. He felt Ignis huddling against his legs, half hidden by his coat. Small fingers clung to his pants and he could feel the fine trembles coming from the boy as he shook in fear.

The servant stared up at him in horror, cradling her broken wrist to her chest.

“What are you?” she whispered.

“No one of consequence. Get out before I kill you now.”

She ran, screaming as she went. Ardyn shut the door, angry and frustrated. How dare she touch Ignis? Ignis was his, his to protect. Why did he even feel this way about the boy? It confused him. He hadn’t felt the need to protect someone since…

No. He wouldn’t think of her.

He heard Ignis crying and sighed, gently prying the boy out from under the safety of his coat.

“She’s gone, she won’t hurt you again,” Ardyn said, hands on Ignis’ small shoulders.

Ignis looked at him, and Ardyn felt another surge of anger at the rapidly darkening bruise on Ignis’ cheek. 

“May I cut your hair?” Ardyn asked. Ignis’ bangs were hanging down in his eyes and he knew it drove the boy nuts. Ignis thought about it for a moment, nodding slowly.

“Let’s go back to my quarters,” Ardyn said, lifting Ignis into his arms. The boy wrapped his arms around Ardyn’s neck, still trying not to cry. Ardyn carried him down the hall, MTs falling into step behind him. With a thought, he sent a group of them after that servant. She wouldn’t be taking stories to anyone else ever again.

Ardyn quickly punched in the code to his door and stepped inside. He set Ignis at the table and got out a pair of scissors. He gently touched Ignis on the shoulder, directing the boy to look at him.

“Now, the only person’s hair I’ve ever cut is my own. I can’t promise this will turn out well.”

“That’s okay,” Ignis said, voice a little rough. “I trust you.”

Ardyn reared back a bit. Even months after saving the boy from the iron giant in the forest, it surprised him that Ignis did trust him. 

“Okay, here goes nothing,” Ardyn muttered, recovering from the surprise of Ignis’ trust. He tugged Ignis’ bangs straight and cut, the snick of the scissors loud in the silence of the small kitchen.

Ignis sat perfectly still, hands folded in his lap until Ardyn was finished.

Ardyn set the scissors down and stared at his handiwork. It was…

Awful. It was awful. His bangs were more than crooked; he was missing a large chunk right in the front, the rest was still long, and he had a few chunks missing in the back.

“Did it come out okay?” Ignis asked brightly.

“Um…no, not really.”

Ignis just looked at him, finally hoping off the chair and going to the bathroom to look. Ardyn waited to hear an enraged scream, but Ignis just came back a few minutes later with a smile on his face.

“Looks fine to me.”

Ardyn was thankful that young boys didn’t care what their hair looked like.

(It took two more tries for Ardyn to decide he would never be a hair stylist. They came to the decision to just let Ignis’ hair grow. Once it was long, Ardyn was able to at least keep the ends neat.)

FFXV

Ardyn came to truly enjoy the one night a week he set aside to read to Ignis. The boy was smart, far smarter than most of the idiots Ardyn dealt with on a daily basis, and he truly enjoyed reading to him.

He let Ignis choose the books, tactfully skipping over naughty bits. He may have once read those sex scenes to a child, but he found he didn’t want to. He didn’t question it too much. If he looked too deeply into his emotions concerning the young boy, he just got angry. He couldn’t explain it to himself.

The last book of the night was always the book of old Lucian fairy tales, in Ardyn’s long dead tongue. He would read them to Ignis in the current language of the day, then go back and read them in Old Lucian. 

One night, nearly nine months after he had rescued Ignis from the village, he walked into the library to see Ignis sitting at a table, little legs swinging back and forth. He had the book of fairy tales open before him, finger slowly moving along the words. Ardyn stood there and listened as Ignis slowly sounded out the words of a dead language, brows furrowed at some of the more difficult words.

“The sound comes from the throat,” Ardyn said. Ignis jumped, spinning in his chair to face Ardyn, cheeks flushed. Ardyn repeated the sound Ignis was trying to make, demonstrating it for Ignis. 

Ignis copied him, nailing it within a couple of tries.

“I didn’t know you were interested in learning the language.”

Ignis looked at the book, carefully closing it. “I like learning.”

“That much I’ve noticed,” Ardyn said. Ignis’ tutor was one of the few people the boy was okay being left alone with. The tutor always had glowing words about the boy, how brilliant and bright he was, picking up concepts quickly.

Ardyn pulled out the chair next to Ignis and sat down, pulling the book to him. He opened it to Ignis’ favorite story, the one about the princess and the dragon.

“How about you read to me today?” Ardyn said, pushing the book to Ignis. Ignis looked at him, licking his lips nervously. “I’ll help you.”

He had to admit that it would be nice to be able to speak Old Lucian with someone again. It was a twisted and archaic language, and would probably take Ignis years to grasp it.

But Ardyn had nothing but time.

FFXV

“Ardyn?”

“Yes, Ignis?” Ardyn asked, not looking up from where he was mixing up dinner.

“When is your birthday?”

Ardyn looked at him, mouth half open. Ignis stared up at him, blinking those big green eyes.

“Why do you ask?” Ardyn said slowly, stirring the pot of soup.

Ignis shrugged, feet swinging back and forth. He picked at the knee of his shorts, finally looking at Ardyn.

“I just wondered,” Ignis said. 

“When’s yours?” Ardyn asked. He probably should’ve asked the kid ages ago. What in the hell was he going to do if he missed Ignis’ birthday?

Ignis smiled slightly. “In a couple weeks. February seventh.”

Ardyn nodded, turning his attention back to the soup. When was his birthday? It had been so long since he had celebrated anything—especially his birthday—that he honestly didn’t remember. He found himself drifting through his thoughts, trying to remember.

He couldn’t. He just…couldn’t.

It had been inconsequential during his long imprisonment on Angelgard, and when he was finally released his birthday had been the last thing on his mind.

He felt a small hand touch his hip and he looked down. Ignis looked up at him, biting his lip. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Ignis whispered.

Ardyn set the soup to simmer and knelt in front of Ignis. “No, you didn’t. The truth is, I don’t remember when my birthday is. I was trying to recall it, but I can’t. It’s not important.”

“It _is_ ,” Ignis said firmly.

Ardyn looked at the boy in front of him. Over ten months had gone by since that day in the forest when Ignis had looked at Ardyn and saw a savior instead of a villain. If it was important to Ignis, Ardyn could put forth the effort to at least pick a date.

Ardyn cast his mind about, finally landing on a date. 

“March nineteenth,” Ardyn said finally.

“Is that your birthday?”

Ardyn smiled at Ignis, taking off his fedora and placing it on the boy’s head.

“It is now.”

There was one reason Ardyn had picked that date; it was the day he rescued Ignis from the forest.

FFXV

“I’m going to be traveling tomorrow,” Ardyn said. Ignis looked at him, eyes wide.

“Oh,” Ignis whispered. He had been left alone by Ardyn before, but only for hours at a time. Ardyn hadn’t actually left him, at least to Ignis’ knowledge.

Ardyn watched the boy’s shoulders slump with keen interest. 

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, here and there. I like to check my interests in various cities every few years or so,” Ardyn drawled. He waited, watching Ignis tap his fingers against his knee.

“Can I come?” Ignis asked.

Ardyn tilted his head; he had wanted the boy to ask. Ignis was exceptionally well behaved for a nearly six year old, and Ardyn sometimes wondered what it was doing to the boy’s psyche to act so much older than his age. It would probably do the boy some good to get out of the empire.

He had watched as Ignis slowly became comfortable with the Magitek troopers. The MTs never hurt him, and the boy sometimes felt better with them than he did other people. Ardyn hadn’t reintroduced him to daemons…yet. 

He knew Ignis was slowly forgetting the terrors of the forest and losing his parents. One of the joys of being so young, Ardyn supposed. Ignis trusted Ardyn, and while he still didn’t fully understand why the boy trusted him so, he was past the point of questioning it. He liked feeling needed again, feeling like someone cared.

“Oh, I guess,” Ardyn said finally, breaking Ignis’ tense silence. Ignis broke into a joyful smile, grinning up at Ardyn.

Even Ardyn couldn’t deny the way his long cold heart thawed just a little at that smile. 

He was growing attached to Ignis, and it could become problematic. If he cared, someone could use Ignis against him, hurt Ignis to get to him.

He looked down at the boy, watching as Ignis ran around the room looking for stuff to pack. 

He would protect this boy. He would teach Ignis to protect himself.

FFXV

Ignis trailed behind Ardyn as they strolled through Lestallum. His head was on a swivel, constantly looking around the city. It was so different from the few times he’d gone into Gralea proper with Ardyn; it seemed just as crowded, but the people seemed happier. The city was brighter too, and Ignis was fascinated by the power plant.

They had stopped briefly in Altissia, and Ignis had nearly gotten lost multiple times. Even Ardyn had cursed the maze like structure of the city. He’d told Ignis about the Hydrean, pointing out images of the Leviathan. Ignis thought she was beautiful, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet her.

He scrambled to keep up with Ardyn; the man was dressed different than his normal layers. Ardyn had said he wanted to blend in more, be less memorable.

“Lunch,” Ardyn said, steering Ignis to an outdoor café. Ignis sat happily while the waiter took their order. 

“What do you think of this place?” Ardyn asked.

Ignis looked around, watching the men sitting around doing nothing while the women worked the plant.

“It’s weird. Nice, but weird,” Ignis said.

“Lucis is odd,” Ardyn said, looking towards the overlook. He could see the meteor in the distance and felt the familiar revulsion for the gods rise in him. “They are advanced in some ways, and yet refuse to move into the future in others.”

Ignis watched him silently, sipping his juice.

“Fools, the lot of them,” Ardyn said, bitterness lacing his voice. Ignis didn’t respond; there wasn’t much he could say.

They ate their lunch in a comfortable silence, watching people walk by. Ardyn paid for their meal and stood up, Ignis hot on his heels. They walked towards Ardyn’s red car and Ignis’ gaze caught on a cart selling stuffed animals.

He drifted closer, eyes locked on a stuffed Spiracorn. He didn’t even realize Ardyn had kept walking.

He remembered his own well-loved stuffed Spiracorn, lost in the attack on his village. He bit his lip, dropping his eyes and trying not to cry. He jumped when a warm hand landed on his shoulder.

“What’s this?” Ardyn asked. He’d gotten to the car when he’d realized that Ignis was no longer behind him. He would forever deny the brief moment of panic when he looked around for him.

“Nothing,” Ignis said, wiping his eyes. He didn’t want Ardyn to think he was a crybaby. 

“Come now, no lies between us.”

Ignis bit his lip, half shrugging and trying not to cry. “I had a stuffed Spiracorn…before.”

“Ah,” Ardyn said, glancing at the stuffed animal. He personally didn’t see the appeal, but Ignis rarely asked for anything. He hadn’t even asked for this.

Ardyn forked over the gil for the stuffed animal and handed it to a surprised Ignis. Ignis hugged it to his chest, staring up at Ardyn in shock.

“It is your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?” Ardyn asked, arching his eyebrow.

Ignis nodded slowly, half strangling the Spiracorn in his grip. He lunged forward, thin arms locking around Ardyn’s hips in a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Ignis whispered.

Ardyn touched Ignis’ head gently. “You’re welcome.”

It felt good to give Ignis something that made him happy. Ardyn decided not to look too closely at his feelings. He was terrible at them.

FFXV

Time passed, and their lives fell into a routine. Ignis had his own room next to Ardyn’s, though more often than not he ended up sleeping on Ardyn’s couch, Spiracorn under one arm. Ardyn didn’t mind. He didn’t really need to sleep; he hadn’t needed to in two thousand years.

On the day Ardyn had selected as his birthday, Ignis had shyly offered him a new drawing. The boy had clearly taken his time on it, and Ardyn was about ninety percent sure it was supposed to be him on a Spiracorn. Ardyn had it framed and stuck it on his little used desk.

Ignis had haltingly sang happy birthday in Old Lucian, stumbling over some of the words. Ardyn gently corrected him and Ignis repeated the song until he had all the words right. 

Hearing the language of his birth was the best gift he could get.

Aldercapt finally realized that Ardyn had been secreting a boy away and insisted on meeting him. Ignis stood before the emperor, trying to hide how scared he was. 

“Get rid of him,” Aldercapt said.

“No,” Ardyn said, a smile on his face. He walked forward, gently nudging Ignis behind him. “He is training to be my advisor.”

“I don’t want him here!” Aldercapt screeched. Ignis flinched at his tone.

Ardyn surged forward, scourge bleeding into his eyes. Aldercapt whined in fear, staring at the man.

“He is mine, mortal man,” Ardyn said, darkness writhing from the tips of his fingers. “You will not touch him.”

Aldercapt gave in, watching as Ardyn and Ignis left. His hatred grew, and he knew he had to do something to keep Ardyn under his thumb. He didn’t know what Ardyn was, but he only needed the man to get the Crystal from Lucis. After that, he’d get Verstael’s pets to kill him.

He’d kill the boy in front of him first.

Yes, that was a good plan.

FFXV

Ignis was seven years old when Ardyn heard the news that changed everything.

They were out in the country again, taking a brief stop in Tenebrae on the way back to Gralea. They were at the train station and Ardyn watched Ignis stare at the palace of the royal family in awe. 

It was a beautiful country, but this place, those flowers, brought back memories Ardyn would rather keep buried. He was only here because Ignis had been born in Tenebrae and liked to see it occasionally.

“Did you hear?” one of the Tenebraen guards said to his companion. Ardyn turned his head slightly, listening intently.

“The queen said that the time of the prophecy has arrived.”

Ardyn gripped the rail in front of him, silently goading the guard to continue.

“No way,” the other guard said, worry lacing his voice.

“Yeah, I was in the throne room when word came from Lucis. Their Crystal chose the prince. Queen Sylva sobbed. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“What does it mean?”

“I’m not sure, but she looked at the princess Lunafreya like she was on her deathbed.”

Ardyn didn’t even realize his grip cracked the marble rail beneath his fingers.

Everything would change.

Noctis Lucis Caelum, all of five years old, was the chosen of the Crystal. 

Ardyn couldn’t help it. He started to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are love!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are love!
> 
> Follow us on social media for updates and general Ardnis squealing.
> 
>  
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/golden_asp)


End file.
